Let It Die
by st.elmo-lover
Summary: I hated him for making me see the truth in life...stupid Tim Shepard.
1. Tim

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of The Outsiders characters in this whole story. I do, however, own Neal Dalton and Harriet Dalton.**

**Edited on 04-18-09  
**

"It ain't fair," I snapped as I turned away from him. I didn't want him to see the tears stinging at my eyes or the flush that had come onto my cheeks. It was hard to keep my voice steady and the only thing I could do was puff on my weed. I was hoping the damn thing would calm my nerves but so far it wasn't doing a damn thing.

"Life ain't fair," his voice was cold and hoarse and I knew he was just trying to keep his emotions in check.

"Can't you fight with him? He can't do this." I turned, my hands shaking as I tried to keep the tears from falling.

"He's the leader, sis, I do what he says," he told me. His voice was pleading now and I wanted more then anything to give him the biggest hug I could. But that just wasn't going to happen.

"Alright. Go then," I sneered. "You and your stupid gang rules. You leave me here with this shit hole house and our alcoholic father and see if I'm here when you get back," my voice was as cold as I could get it but with every word I uttered my heart broke even more.

"Harry-" he started, but I cut him off.

"Go. New York is waiting." I turned around again, taking another drag of my dwindling weed. It was getting too short too fast and I knew I would be lighting up again in five minutes.

"Alright. Let's go back then," he said before he heaved a sigh and grabbed my hand. He pulled me along, weed dangling from my mouth, and eyes narrowed at the familiar gang gathered around a black T-Bird. My eyes zeroed in on my now worst enemy and I pulled out of my older brother's grasp.

"Harry," he yelled at me. I jogged forward, intent on getting myself heard no matter what happened.

I was almost there, all the while muttering "no fear", but I never got there. Neal grabbed my wrist in a firm grip and dug his finger nails in until I stopped struggling. It was apparent that he wasn't going to let me make a scene even if it cost him his life.

"Alright. Let's go," Neal said after looking me over. He was staring at the car that was now beside us. I looked down. I was feeling ashamed now and I didn't want to look up at the twenty or so people in front of me.

Girls stood on one side and guys stood on the other. All of them looking tuff and tough and as cool as they could. It wasn't like the Shepard gang to do something like this. No one really knew why they were doing it now but it didn't seem to matter either.

Tim Shepard's word was law, or so the whole gang thought. I could remember when Neal had first joined. He was only fourteen and I was thirteen. Tim was the same age as Neal but was already tough as nails.

I could still hear my own pleading voice as I asked Neal not to do it. I knew how much trouble gangs could get into and I knew how dangerous rumbles were. I didn't want my brother to be apart of that.

He, of course, had fed me some bull shit about how we would be safer. That if we had a whole gang of boys looking out for the both of us we wouldn't have to worry about the stupid Socs anymore. I was stupid back then and I believed him. I had hung on his every word.

It had kept us safer, for a little while that was. It was a few years before girls started to take interest in the Shepard gang and by Tim's unspoken rule the "girls" of his gang members were protected.

It was stupid really and that was the only word I could think of to describe it.

I watched with half lidded eyes as Angela stepped up and gave my brother a hug. It wasn't one of those romantic hugs where she shoved herself all over him, though. She knew better than to do that shit in front of Tim.

We all knew, the whole gang, that she wanted to though. The only one that chose to ignore the situation was Tim Shepard himself. I had thought about it for a while though. After Tim had announced he was sending Neal and Jack to New York, I had come to the conclusion that Tim was sending Neal to New York for one reason and one reason only, to get him away from his sister.

Tim Shepard was a family man, though no one ever spoke of it. Everyone knew he would go to great lengths to protect his little sister and little brother. And sending Neal, one of his prized gang members, away, was one of those lengths.

I dropped my weed on the ground finally and stepped on it with my Converse shoe. Trust Neal to tell me the last minute and drag me out of the house. It was always last minute with him and words couldn't express how much it ticked me off.

I watched as he stepped around the circle, shaking hands and giving manly hugs. A few laughs rang out as all the boys told him not to get into too much trouble. They all knew better when it came to Neal, which was exactly the point.

I glared when he stopped in front of Tim, his hand stretched out in front of him. I couldn't believe how respective he could be to that prick when he was sending him away to a city he couldn't possibly survive in.

I stepped up next to Neal, grabbing his elbow so I could try and talk to him, but he shrugged me off. I looked on for a few seconds, hurt, before I realized what the pair were talking about.

"Take care of Harry for me, man. I don't trust her alone. She ain't as sane as she once was." I scoffed, socking my older brother in the arm.

"I'm saner than you!" I snapped. Angel's laugh rang out among the group and I turned to glare at her. She flipped me the finger and it was my turn to laugh. I didn't really hate the girl, but I wasn't fond of her either. It was annoying to have her around all the time, hanging on Neal and what not.

"I'll take care of 'er man. Don't worry," Tim's dark brown eyes turned to me, burning a hole in my skull. I gave him a nice pretty scowl before Neal could turn me towards him.

"I'll see you, little sister," he told me, wrapping his large arms around me unexpectedly.

"Whatever you say," I told him, trying my hardest to shrug him off. I wasn't going to stand there and act like I was fine with him leaving, because I wasn't. I was far from it and he deserved to know.

"Behave yourself, Harry," was the last thing he said to me before he climbed into the passenger side of the car. The engine revved and before I knew it he was gone. The only thing left of him was a faint smell of his cologne on my clothes. I honestly wanted to cry.

I could feel my shoulders slumping as tears welled in my eyes and I turned away from the rest of the gang to light up. A few pats to my back was all I got as the gang dispersed, heading for the party at Buck's.

"You okay?" Angel asked as she stepped up beside me. I nodded numbly, offering her a puff of my weed. She accepted with a nod.

"Get on in the house, Angel," a deep, harsh voice yelled. Angel turned, my weed still clutched in her fingers. I could tell it was Tim when she scowled at him but he must have given her a threatening look because she rushed off.

"That was my last weed!" I yelled at her back. She waved a hand at me dismissively as she scurried into the house.

"You should get on home, too," Tim said from behind. I turned, my eyes darkening.

"What are you? My father?" I sassed. I didn't know it was possible but Tim Shepard's gaze actually darkened more then it already had.

"Listen, Harry, we've known each other for a pretty long time and I ain't about to break my promise to your brother. Don't make this harder than it already is," he took a few steps towards me but I couldn't figure out if they were supposed to be threatening or not.

"I'm not the one who made it harder," I told him, my voice barely above a whisper. It wouldn't have taken a rocket scientist or a genius to figure out I was worried about my brother.

"Get on home, Harry. I won't tell you again," was all he said. I could feel his hand on the small of my back as he gave me a little push towards the right direction. I was fuming, worried, sad, and I had no weed.

A week later found me sitting on the couch at home, staring off into space with yet another weed dangling from my mouth. I couldn't really figure out what to do with myself. Neal and I had always been like yin and yang. What was one without the other? Well, I was quickly finding out.

A mess was the only thing I could thing of to describe myself. I didn't have the energy to get up even though I knew I should. By the time I actually thought I could move myself from the couch, he stomped in the door. He was drunk already and with a turn of my head I realized it wasn't even midnight yet. He was home early.

The slap that met me was pretty much routine. In my house it was sort of like a greeting anymore. The punch that followed afterwards was just the effect of the alcohol flowing through his veins. When I hit the wall, my finger brushed over a now split lip. It was going to swell, that was for sure.

The crunch of my own nose breaking filled my ears and the blood started flowing faster then I could stop it. I dropped to my knees and with one more kick to already bruised ribs, the old man was gone, stumbling down the hallway to pass out.

My hand seemed to be permanently connected with my face as I stumbled out of the house and made my way to the only safe place I could think of. I wasn't even there yet and I could already hear the music. I wasn't aware that he was having a party but with all the greasers that had to be inside, it had to be safe.

I stumbled up the stairs. My green cloth jacket was pressed to my nose to try and keep the blood from dripping on his carpet. Like he cared anyway. I pushed through the crowd the best I could, the occasional person stopping to turn and look at me but it wasn't like they were going to help out. So I kept on. I knew where he would be because his stupid gang never left the damn place unless they were banging a girl.

"Hey!" I heard a voice yell and I turned to see Steve Randle making his way towards me. He was my 'car' buddy, as I liked to call him. When we were younger, about fifteen, he taught me how to steal hub caps faster then anybody but himself. Ever since then we had been pretty close.

"Where's Tim?" my voice was muffled by my jacket and Steve stopped in his tracks, checking out my blood drenched jacket. He pointed a finger in the direction of the 'poker' table and the couch. That damn gang never moved.

I nodded slowly and kept on my way, ignoring everyone that gave me stares. When I finally reached the gangs little corner I realized Tim was on the couch, a slut in his lap, just like always.

"Tim..." I trailed off, I wasn't sure if he had heard me over the music and the hand over my mouth but I waited for a while. He went on with his business, his hands running up the slut's thighs to grab a hold of her ass.

"Tim!" I managed to yell. The widening of my mouth hurt like a bitch and my nose ached even more. The blood gushing from it seemed to speed up and I cursed softly.

"Jesus!" Tim said, finally throwing the slut from his lap. I could tell he was getting ready to tell me off for interrupting his fun but his features softened when he laid eyes on my blood socked jacket and I nodded.

"Come on." was the only thing he said. He took my free hand and pulled me through the crowd and up the stairs. We stopped when we reached a small bathroom upstairs and he sat me on the toilet.

"What happened?" he asked. His voice was mellow as he searched through the medicine cabinet above the sink.

I shook my head, refusing to answer him as he pulled at my hand until I dropped it from my face. He turned my head from side to side and grunted with what looked like amusement.

It only lasted a few seconds though before his face turned to stone again and he looked at me soberly.

"Your brother would shit if he was here." he said as he pushed my head back so I was staring at the ceiling.

"Well he ain't here, is he?" I snapped, pulling my head back down to give him a stare full of blame.

"Remember who you're talkin' to, kid!" Tim snapped, shoving a finger in my face and giving me a glare that would stop anybody, including me. The only thing I could do was nod numbly and let him lift my head back up. It wasn't like I was going to challenge the great Tim Shepard.

I was pissed as hell and beat up and I wasn't lookin' to get put in the hospital.

I turned my attention to Tim and stared at him through the corner of my eyes as he put what looked like alcohol on a small cotton ball. I could hear him mumbling something about stupid broads and knew he just had to be talking about me. I was going to protest and God knows I was going to tell him to shove it up his ass...

But I howled in pain instead.

"You fucker!" I yelled at him as the burning and stinging in my lip intensified. "No one said you had to put fucking alcohol on it!" I yelled at him, jumping up from the toilet. My fist landed on the wall beside me and the pain was transferred from my face to my knuckles.

"You put a whole in my wall," Tim started, "and I'll kick your ass."

"It's a little late for that don't you think?" I snapped at him, motioning to my already wrecked body.

"What the hell were you thinking walking alone, anyway?" he asked. I watched as he crossed his arms over his chest in a protective manner. His muscles rippled and the bottom of a cross tattoo peaked out from underneath his black shirt. His whole person screamed tense and ready and I knew that he knew I was going to start yelling at him.

That's when I changed my mind and decided not to.

"I wasn't walking alone," I told him, taking a seat on the toilet again. "Not when this happened anyway." I added, remembering that I had in fact walked to his house alone.

"Then what happened?" his voice was gruff and low and raspy. Despite my better judgment I shivered, my spine tingling from the feel of his voice hitting my ear drums.

"What always happens to greasers? It's a cliche thing and it happens all over this side of the damn city." I was being a smart ass now. He knew it and I knew it.

But I wasn't expecting him to get amused.

"Your old man, then?" he asked, his amusement disappeared as quickly as it had come and he leaned against the sink, his legs crossed out in front of him.

I looked down and tugged on my black skirt, suddenly wishing for some reason that it was longer then it was. I could feel myself nodding to his question, though I didn't really know why. It wasn't any of his business anyway.

"Drunk?" he asked, his voice still low.

I nodded again, my head still down.

"Keep your head up," he snapped suddenly. I threw my head back and cursed to myself when I realized I had just followed Tim's instructions like a little dog.

I must have lost too much blood.

"Hey, Harry, you alright?" a voice called from outside the door. Tim's head turned towards the door but he waited for a few seconds before he opened it.

Steve stood there, his arms at his side. He didn't look worried, or not much anyway.

He stepped forward and took a knee in front of me. Staring at my split lip and obviously broken nose.

He let out a low whistle but I wasn't paying any attention. My eyes were focused on Evie, standing in the doorway eying Tim like he was piece of candy.

"Cost much, Evie?" a questioned, my head still turned towards the ceiling but my eyes glaring at her.

If it was one thing I hated, it was stupid broads that gave up guys like Steve Randle or Dallas Winston for no good reason. I guess they didn't realize how much all the other girls would kill to even have a chance with them. It was ridiculous the way those whores just tossed around those hoods like footballs.

But the thing that irked me the most was that Steve was my friend. It wasn't like I hadn't warned him about her. He just never listened.

I still tried my best to keep her in line though, with or without Steve's help.

Personally I didn't think it was that hard. Sure I looked like a slut and I dressed like one, but that was just the greaser girl way. I wasn't really a slut and I didn't whore myself off. Holding on to one guy and being faithful to him, it should have come naturally to those girls. But I guess something had been switched off in 'em to make them act like they did.

"Bitch!" Evie spit out with a pop of her gum and a snarl. My head whipped down and I stood up. I was completely intent on scraping her eyes out with my nails and feeding them to some stray dogs.

"What the fuck did I just tell you?" Tim barked from his place on the counter. I glared at him, seething.

I had decided long ago that greaser girls just couldn't get along. As soon as they reached the age of fifteen and started getting interested in guys, friends just weren't a priority. I had to admit it was the same way with me. When I was younger I used to always worry about one of my so called friends going after one my boyfriends because I knew that's just how it worked. Greaser town was no picnic for a girl and the guys would take what they could get most of the time.

"Get out," Tim snapped at Evie. His eyes were on me though, trying to scare me with one of his glares. It was working pretty damn good.

"Steve!" Evie whined from the top of the stairs. She was expecting Steve to follow her like a puppy dog and to my dismay that's exactly what he did.

I jumped with fright when Tim slammed the door shut and looked up to find him coming towards me.

He reached a calloused hand and pulled my head up with his pointer finger. I sighed in exasperation as he started looking over my nose.

He shook with cold laughter a few seconds later and I gave him a questioning look.

"That pretty little nose of your's is broke," was all he said.

I tried to ignore the fact that he had called my nose pretty and instead I pulled my head back down.

"Can I go down stairs now?" I asked, my fingers tenderly feeling around my nose. The whole thing was going to be black and blue tomorrow and swollen like a balloon. If I was lucky my eyes wouldn't swell along with it.

"Not yet," Tim said as his hands trailed down to my waist.

"Hey, don't you think you oughta pay first?" I joked, pulling away from him. His glare was cold and I shrunk back from it.

"I know you got kicked in the ribs, so you either take your shirt off or I'll do it for you." I shuddered. Picturing Tim taking my shirt off and...

Not good.

I gingerly pulled my bloody jacket from my shoulders before tossing it at him. He looked it over for a few seconds before he tossed in a trash can near by.

"That was my favorite jacket," I told him in a matter of fact tone. He shrugged and motioned for me to take my shirt off.

I did so slowly, still unsure about the whole thing. With all the pain in my nose I hadn't really had time to feel the pain in my ribs, which was getting worse by the second.

I hissed as my skin pulled tight against my ribs and my shirt got stuck on my head. I gave a small grunt as I tried to pull it off with a jerk but only ended up crying out in pain as my skin pulled again.

Rough hands ran along my arms for a brief second before the shirt was lifted off my head and I knew for a fact my face was flush red.

Talk about embarrassment.

I gasped when Tim's cold hand started to prob at my already blue ribs and something stirred inside me that I wish I could have ignored.

He gave a grunt as he worked his fingers all around, feeling for anything that could have meant a crack or a break.

"I'll wrap it," he said finally, standing up. I blushed a crimson red again. I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that I, Harry, was in front of Tim Shepard, topless (with a bra mind you).

He set to work pulling the wrapping around my ribs to keep them in a secure place. By the time he was done I was sure my whole body was on fire. It wasn't like I could help myself though.

I watched as he stood up. I caught his eye for a second and quickly turned away. When I looked back I could see the smirk on his face and I couldn't help but want to wipe it off.

"Can I got downstairs now?" I questioned again, my eyes hopeful. Anything to get away from this guy, I would do.

"If you put your shirt on."


	2. Dallas

**Edited 04-18-09**

"Yeah, man, she's doing okay...yeah. He roughed her up pretty bad. Course I fixed 'er up. What do you think I am? Stupid?" The sound of Tim's low, rumbling voice was like a fly buzzing in my ear and the only thing I could do to keep from running into the kitchen was to hold on to the doorway.

Last night had been...well it had been. I had barely gotten any sleep and every which way I turned and tried to get comfortable, it didn't actually end up that way. My ribs were still killing me and my nose wasn't any better. I looked like a blown up purple balloon and Tim had spent all morning making sure I knew it. Not to mention every time Angel passed by me she broke into giggles.

I had the worst urge to show her what it felt like...

I had been about to actually and then the shrill ringing of the phone had sent Tim off in a rant and as soon as he had come down stairs to see me headed towards Angel with a glare on my face he dragged me into the kitchen by the ear.

It had turned out to be Neal on the phone checking in from New York. I guess he had been calling Tim's house for a while, but had never bothered to call and check on me. I had asked him why but he had just spent five minutes stuttering some incoherent reasons. After that I had taken to buggin' him about what the hell he was doing in New York anyway. It was pretty impossible to get it out of him, though. I had never realized how good he had gotten at steering the conversation in a different direction.

Neal had made me pass the phone off to Tim after about twenty minutes of talking and I had practically thrown it at the other boy before I stormed out. But I didn't go far. I had decided to stand outside the kitchen and do my best to listen in on their conversation. So far I wasn't doing that bad of a job but something inside me told me Tim knew I was there, listening to everything he was saying into the receiver. I was trying to decide what they were talking about because I only had one side of the conversation to go on and so far it was really hard.

"Yeah, I'll get her," Tim said, his voice a little louder now. He didn't say anything after that though and I figured he was just waiting for me to come into the room. When I finally emerged he gave me a glare that could have killed the devil but the only thing I could do was shrug.

"I want you to stay with Tim for the rest of the time I'm gone," was the first thing out of Neal's mouth when I got to the phone. I exhaled loudly, hoping he had picked up on my aggravation.

"No. I can take care of myself," I said strongly, though inside my voice was shaking. "Besides, he already has Angel and Curly to take care of."

"Well he can manage to take care of you, too. We already talked about it. You'll be sleepin' on the couch at his house and he'll look after ya. Make sure you get to school and all that," he explained.

"And if I don't?" my voice was just above a whisper because I really didn't have it in me to stay with my dad one more night. At least not when I was already beat up enough. But then again, why couldn't I have just stayed with the Curtis'? Or even at Buck's place? Buck's place wasn't exactly suitable for a "young lady" but it was better then home and it was better then Tim's place.

"If you don't, Tim will hunt you down and make you," there was no joke in his voice and it made me shiver. He was serious, as serious as he could get anyway.

"Listen to me, Harry," he said sternly, "if anything happens to you I won't be able to forgive myself. Tim is the only way I can make sure you're safe. So don't give me that bullshit about you not trusting him because you know you can."

I turned to lean on the wall and nearly jumped out of my skin when I realized Tim was leaning on the wall opposite of me. His shoulder pressed against the white paint and his legs crossed. I sniffled and wiped at some tears before turning away again.

I wanted so much to tell Neal that I loved him and that he was the best thing I had but something in me just wouldn't give up the fact that he had abandoned me on Tim's say so. It just wasn't right and I coudln't help but be mad about it.

"Fine," I managed in a low, hoarse voice. I could hear Neal sigh on the other side. From irritation or relief I wasn't sure, but I guess it didn't matter much.

I hung up the phone without another word but I clutched at the wall to try and keep myself up. Everything else seemed to melt away as I pictured my older brother and hero in my mind. I couldn't help but wonder if he was ever going to come back...

"I'm going to go smoke," I heard myself say, but I was so numb I hadn't even realized I'd opened my mouth. I stumbled towards the door and managed to yank it open.

It took at least five minutes for me to fish my ciggs out of my loose jeans but I managed it and lit up as fast as I could.

The drugs in it calmed me a little bit but not as much as I would have hoped and I wondered in all my numbness how many more it would take before I got the effect I wanted.

When I was on my third, a tall figure was making his way up the sidewalk. He had an air of confidence and danger about him and the way his blond hair shown in the sun made me think he had to be some type of god...

Until he got closer and I realized it was Dallas Winston making his way towards me. He was in his usual leather jacket, tight jeans, and boots. But the boy sure did pull it off well.

He was the same age as Tim and Neal and just as dangerous if not more so. He was recklass and uncaring and he had a cold side about him I wasn't sure Tim could even top. Tim and Dallas liked to duke it out a lot and who won was always a toss up. Usually it was the person who had consumed the least amount of alcohol. But the two got mad at each other for the simplest things. Not to mention Dallas was always slashing Tim's tires when he got mad. I had always guessed it was because Dallas was jealous Tim actually had a car (stolen or not).

One thing was for sure though, Dallas Winston was no one to be messed with. His cold ways always put everyone on edge, even the Curtis gang who he ran with. Girls were always all over him but none of them with enough stamina to handle him. Then again, maybe that Sylvia had what it took to keep him in line but that didn't matter much. She was always sleeping around with Tim if she was with Dallas and vice versa.

But you couldn't hate the girl who had at least a little sway over the toughest hoods in Tulsa and sometimes I even envied her. No matter how hard I think about it I can't figure out where she gets the energy to deal with the pair of them. Dealing with Tim's always bad enough for me.

When Dallas finally stopped in front of me, I looked down. His gold skull ring was on his finger and I realized Sylvia must have packed up and moved on again. I had no doubt she would be back though.

"Well if it ain't little Harry," the boy drawled as he stuck his hands inside his jean pockets. "Did I ever tell you how good you look now that you're all grown up?" The hood's brow rose suggestively and I couldn't help but shake my head at him. He was on the rebound, that much was sure. He had never made a pass at me before.

He could be hung over though, I reasoned with myself.

I shrugged it off though and blew out a puff of smoke.

"Comin' from you, that 'ont mean much." I replied before taking another puff. He seemed to deflate real fast, his brow dropping and his icy eyes going dark.

Like I said, the littlest things set him off...

"What's that supposed to mean HARRY?" he asked, putting stress on my name.

"It means, I ain't your type. It also means you're on the rebound and I ain't stupid."

"Spoken like a true whore," was all he said, his demeanor suddenly calm again. My shoulders stiffened up and I stepped on my cigg that I had just dropped.

"Fuck you-"

"Get in the house, Harry," a voice snapped from behind me. I turned, my skin crawling with the ice in Tim's voice. His eyes were flashing with anger but it looked like the anger was held for Dallas. It was too hard to tell though and I wasn't lookin' to find out. I was heading towards him when Dallas grabbed on to my wrist with a vice like grip. I hissed at the sudden pressure and tried to plant my feet when he started dragging me towards him. I could feel his finely toned chest against my back and his leather jacket on the skin of my arms.

I was suddenly feeling a fear I hadn't even known before and I almost let out a scream to pierce everyone's ears. I don't even know what stopped me. It was probably the feel of Dallas' breath on my neck.

"You know who I am little girl?" he whispered. His voice was harsh and low and his breath hot. I couldn't even stop myself from nodding I was so scared.

"Then what're you thinkin'? I ain't like Tim ya know. I won't be gentle and I won't be nice. You better remember that..." he trailed off, leaving his all but empty threat hanging in the air and I could feel myself shaking against his grip and I bet he could, too.

"If you know what's good for you, Winston, you'll let go of that girl right now." Tim's voice was even more deadly then before (which I didn't think was possible) and it suddenly set in on me that I was in between the two toughest, meanest hoods in Tulsa and there was no way I could get out of it. I couldn't even stop the tears that came to my eyes.


	3. Steve and Soda

"What are you gonna do if I don't, Timmy?" Dallas let out a snort of laughter and his grip tightened on my arms. I couldn't help the whimper that came from my lips or the tear that escaped out of the corner of my eye. I wanted to give Tim one of those looks, the look that screamed 'kicked puppy' and 'save me'. But I didn't. It was just going to end up being another one of the times Tim had to save me from the trouble I'd gotten myself in. This time, I wasn't going to ask for his help. Nope, not this time.

"I made a promise, Dallas," Tim growled. "And we both now I'm not gonna break it, even if it means killing you to keep it."

Dallas snorted again and I squirmed unconsciously. His breath on my neck was making me even more nervous than the grip he had on my arms. It reeked of stale alcohol and cigarettes. It wasn't all that different from Tim but in my opinion, Dallas was a lot worse. I'd been around Tim pretty much my whole life and he'd never given me that bad, creepy feeling that Dallas did.

There was something in Dallas' eyes, something that said he was capable of a lot of things when you pushed his buttons hard enough. And obviously I had pushed some kind of button in just the right way. And not the good way either.

"You know, Harry, you think you're tough shit, but when it comes to being a real dangerous situation, you just can't handle it," Dallas whispered to me. I tried to flinch away from his lips on my ear but he held me in place and came even closer.

"Please, Dally," I whimpered. I knew his words were true to a certain extent but I didn't want to believe it. I'd spent my whole life acting tough and strong so I could make it in the neighborhood. I knew without my tough front I wouldn't have been able to survive and that's what was most important to me.

"Please, what?" He whispered. He had just licked his lips and I could feel his saliva on my ear. It made me shiver and whimper and move away all at the same time. His grip tightened again and he pulled me in even closer if that was possible.

"Come on, now," he said louder. He shifted a bit and I relaxed as the feeling of his breath left my neck. "I'm just tryin' to have a little fun. Don't you want to have any fun, Harry?" I could hear the wicked grin in his voice and could picture it on his face. Dallas was something else entirely.

"Dallas!" Tim barked from in front of us. His shoulders had finally squared off, as if he had just now realized Dallas was a real threat, and he was finally standing at his full height. I wanted to scoff at him but I held back. I had to keep reminding myself this really wasn't any kind of situation to be sarcastic and standoffish in.

"I ain't allowed to have fun. You should know that, Dally," I whispered as I tried yet again to loosen his grip on me. His chest rumbled against my back as he let out a low, short chuckle. I shivered again.

"Harry, would you just shut the fuck up?" I winced. Tim didn't usually make it a habit to curse at me, or any girl for that matter, which meant he really was on edge with what was happening. I could understand. Tim probably knew more than anyone what Dallas was really capable of. They had spent a lot of nights getting into trouble together and shooting the shit. Tim knew a lot of Dally's stories.

"I don't know, Harry," Dallas continued, "I hear you can be a lot of fun when you want to be." I nearly gagged when Dally rubbed his crotch up against my backside and made a show of sniffing at my neck. If I hadn't felt violated before, I sure as hell did now. I could feel the bile in my stomach that wanted to make its way up my throat. I was so sickened by the feel of Dallas against me, I didn't even have the good sense to be mad about what he was implying.

He happened quick as lightening. Sometime between rubbing himself against me and then readjusting himself, Dallas must have loosened his grip and Tim took advantage of it. His fingers dug painfully into my wrist as he yanked me away from Dallas and into himself. My shoulder plowed into his unmoving stomach and I gasped at yet another aching muscle. He shoved me aside not a second later and was on Dallas before I could blink again.

Tim's fist meeting Dally's nose made a sickening crunch and I almost winced, almost, and then I realized Dallas deserved whatever the hell he had coming to him, the sick bastard. I didn't take Dallas long to recover from the first punch. He was back on his feet and facing Tim within no time. That's when I realized that this was what he wanted all along. He was just looking for a way to get Tim's attention, to get Tim mad. And this was the next best way besides slashing his tires again.

Dally knew how much keeping promises meant to Tim when it came to his friends and his family, and he was playing on that knowledge.

"Come on, Timmy," Dally laughed, "teach me a lesson."

I scoffed at that. Tim sure has hell could teach him a lesson if Tim got mad enough. But with one glance at Tim, I knew Tim had come to the same realization I had probably a lot sooner. Tim had also realized that this was just another one of Dally's shows, another one of Dally's tricks, to get himself hurt. Almost everyone in town knew Dally liked to get his rocks off by feeling a little pain. Dallas didn't feel emotional pain, just physical, because physical was better than nothing.

"Get outta here, Dallas." Tim lowered his fists and stood straight again, his fighting stance gone. "You had your fun."

Dally didn't make a show of hiding his disappointment. He charged at Tim in an attempt to tackle the other man to the ground but Tim was ready for it and simply pushed him back again. "I mean it!" Tim said sternly, his pointer finger pointed in Dally's direction and his arm flexed.

Tim could look really intimidating when he wanted to, I decided, as I let my eyes run over his flexed arm muscles and then to his stomach. His white wife beater was sticking to his stomach a little from sweat and I could see his six pack clearly through the material. It made me shiver and almost drool until I remember who I was thinking about.

I shook myself, the need to vomit and the urge to run colliding with each other. Dallas was walking backwards towards the road, his eyes fixed on me. I glared back with everything I could muster. I wasn't going to let him know he had scared me if I could help it, despite the show of begging I had made when he had had me up against him, against my will. The thought of it made me to cry but I held it back and instead collapsed against the house behind me.

I wasn't sitting long before Tim snatched me up again by my forearm. I didn't even make an effort to tell him he was hurting me.

He wanted to hurt me, I could tell. He wanted me to know how angry he was with me and the little "stunt" I had pulled.

"How in the hell am I supposed to control you?" He shook me a little, his fingers biting into my muscle even more.

"I tried to tell you," I looked down at his hand and the way it was turning my arm red. "You're not supposed to control me-"

He cut me off before I could say anymore. "Yes, I am. You're my responsibility! And you're gonna stay my responsibility until your brother gets back from New York." His voice was getting lower and lower the more he talked. Tim was just that kind of guy. When you piss him off, he doesn't get louder. He gets quieter. And it's even scarier.

"And whose fault is that?" I snapped before I could stop myself. "You're the one that sent him away in the first place!" I paused, but not long enough for him to say anything. "You know what, forget that part. Forget you sent him away. It doesn't matter anymore. I'm over and I'm tired of bringing it up. It's the past. The present is the fact that I'm a big girl and I can take care of myself." I wrenched my arm free of his grip, knowing the only reason I could get free in the first place is that he had loosened his grip. If Tim Shepard didn't want you to get away, you wouldn't.

"Yeah, you're such a fucking big girl you were begging for Dallas to let you go, begging me with your eyes to help you." Tim had laughter in his voice and my temper flared at hearing it. It flared because he was right. He was always right.

"Don't be so fucking full of yourself, Shepard. I need you like I need this fucking black eye." I turned away from him and jumped down the stairs. The faster I could get away from him the better. This wasn't any place I wanted to be at the moment and I wasn't gonna hang around. I headed towards the DX, the only place besides the Dingo I knew I'd be able to find someone to talk to. Steve and Soda would keep me company until I decided what to do and I could even warn them about the tirade Dally was on to get himself into trouble. Steve and Soda and the Curtis outfit always knew how to handle him better than anyone in Tim's gang. The Curtis gang was the closest thing Dally had to any family. Sometimes I envied them for the connection they all had with each other. They understood each other like no one else could.

It was cold, I realized after about five minutes of walking. Fall seemed to be coming faster than I ever remembered it coming. I wasn't looking forward to the cold weather, especially if I had put myself out of Tim's house with the little tantrum I had just had. I admit it was a tantrum. But sometimes a girl just gets tired of being treated like she can't do anything for herself. Everyone wants a little independence every now and again.

The DX signed loomed ahead of me and I looked both ways before I crossed the street to get to it. I shoved my hands in my pockets as I walked, trying to pull of the typical Greaser pose. There were certain things that made you cool in the Greaser world and certain things that just make you look like an ass.

"Watch it, Greaser." I looked up to see a car crossing in front of me and made it a point to stare down the forty-year-old man behind the wheel. It was pathetic how even adults went by the Greaser/Soc rules.

I reached the door in no time and the bell above it chimed. I watched in amusement as both Soda and Steve, who were sitting behind the counter arguing, looked over.

"Look what the cat dragged in," Steve joked with a smile as I made my way over. "What brought over this side o' town, miss?"

I shook my head and batted my eyelashes. "Well, sir, my car broke down a few blocks down. I was hoping one of you fine young gentlemen could help me." I laughed. Steve was a joked when he wanted to be but you had to get on his good side first. And there weren't many people on his good side. Oddly enough, Pony, Soda's younger brother, was not one of those people.

"Really, though," Steve said seriously, "What're you doin' outta ol' Tim's sight?"

I scoffed and shook my head. "We got in a fight. Dally was over at his place about an hour ago. Me and Dally had a little…confrontation." Soda sat up a little straighter but I waved him off. "Nothin' I couldn't handle. And you know Tim handled it whether I could or not, anyway."

Both of them nodded in agreement. I didn't have to tell either of them about Tim and Dally's relationship.

"We'll be on the lookout for 'im, then," Soda said. "He'll be lookin' to start trouble somewhere else, too."

"Well," Steve broke in. He had my favorite smile on his face, that shit eating grin that shows all the gaps in his teeth perfectly. "Since you won't have the ol' ball-an-chain around, there's supposed to be a pretty good party at Buck's tonight. Somethin' about him winnin' the rodeo."


	4. Need To Know

"Don't even think about it!"

My hand stopped halfway to the door knob. I had been about to sneak out to head to Buck's. Steve, Soda, and Sandy were waiting for me in Steve's car outside and I was dressed to impress in my favorite greaser gal garb. Tim, for some odd reason, had stayed in tonight. It probably had something to do with the brand new shiner on his face. My guess first guess was he wanted to spend the night in and nurse his wounds in peace and maybe a little bit of Jack or Jim. Either way, his staying in for the night had only made more problems for me. I knew there were two options about this party: either sneak out and go, or ask Tim if I could go and stay in for the night with his drunk ass. I took the more fun and less painful option of the two.

And look where that got me.

"What?" I tried to snark as I turned around. Maybe if I acted like I didn't know what his problem was, I would be able to escape.

"You're not goin' to that party."

He was sitting on the living room couch shrouded in darkness. The T.V. was off and not even a lamp was on. I couldn't see for sure but there was probably a bottle of alcohol in between his legs. It scared me that I couldn't see his facial expression especially when I was treading in such dangerous waters.

"What party?" Playing dumb never really worked for me. Neal had been the first one to tell me that. I still did it, hoping one day it might actually work on someone. Tim probably wouldn't be the first one to fall for it, though.

"Don't fucking play stupid with me!"

I could hear the slur in his words this time and I backed up a half step into the closed front door. I had had plenty of dealings with drunken men. Tim was one drunk man you didn't want to mess with.

"Look, it's really not that big of a deal," I tried to defuse the situation. "Soda and Steve are going with me and they'll look out for me. I just want to have a little fun, you know? With everything going on." She tried to hide the shake of her hands as she folded them in front of her.

"There's a lot more going on than you think and that's all the more reason for you to stay here. I don't want to have to worry about where the hell you are right now. I have more important things on my mind. I'm tired. Just got upstairs and play dress up with Angela or something."

I couldn't see the movement in the dark but she could hear it as Tim shifted a little. Then I could hear a lighter and an orange flame immediately appeared in front of Tim's face. He was lighting a cigarette. His black eye looked considerably worse and it seemed like his face was drooping more than usual. He looked stress and tired and just fed up.

For a few seconds I considered agreeing with him. I almost felt bad for him and whatever he had to deal with. No doubt it was gang related.

But that feeling passed quickly and I immediately puffed up with anger.

"I'm not yours to worry about, Shepard. I understand you made some stupid promise to my brother but we both know it isn't worth a damn. He'll never know if you keep it or not. It's not like he's calling everyday to check up on me. I might as well be dead to him already…"

"Don't you fucking say that!"

I could hear more shifting in the dark and immediately pressed myself closer to the door and flinched away. I was forgetting myself again. I was forgetting who I was talking to and what he was capable of.

"You have no idea what that promise means to your brother or what it means to me that I keep it. You ain't got no fucking clue. You're just a clueless little girl." There were a few moments of silence and then a loud banging on the front door and then some laughter. I slowly moved away from the door, keeping one eye on Shepard the whole time.

I opened it with caution and then relaxed a little to see that both Steve and Soda were standing on the porch laughing together about something. The car was parked idly in front of the house and Sandy waved from the back seat with a smile.

"You ready or what? We've been sittin' out here in the car forever." Steve was trying to reign in his laughter and I wanted to ask what was so funny but knew I didn't really have the time.

"Come on, now. Let's get goin'." Soda agreed with a wide, teethy grin. I loved that smile of his. It could make almost anybody melt.

"Listen," I started to say but stopped when the smiles on their faces quickly dropped and both stood a little straighter and looked a little tougher. A few seconds after that, large, calloused hands came down hard on my shoulders and squeezed. I could feel Tim's breath on the back of my neck and shivered. He stepped even closer and I could feel his chest pressing into my back. Steve and Soda's eyes had both widened just the slightest and I knew it was in fear.

They had both been too drunk to realize just whose house they were at.

"She ain't goin', boys." Tim's deep voice came from a little bit above my ear and I shivered again. "With everything that's goin' on right now, it just ain't such a good idea."

"You know we'll look after her, Shepard." Steve spoke up quickly. He looked even more sober than a few seconds ago. "It's just Bucks. They'll be plenty of people around that will look after her, too. We all know she's spoken for."

I hated how Steve said. He said it like I belonged to someone, like I didn't control my own actions. No one had ever controlled me.

"No one speaks for me, Steve!" I said loudly. I tried to charge forward and out the door but Tim was expecting it and tightened his grip on my shoulders. His fingers bit into the muscle there and I knew I would have bruises in the morning. "Let me go, Tim!" I hissed as I tried again to walk forward.

"Like I said, boy," Tim continued, ignoring me. It took him little to no effort to pull me back into the house and closer to his body again. "It just ain't safe for her right, now."

"We get it, Tim," Soda said quickly and quietly. He put a hand on Steve's shoulder, as if to hold him back and then gave Steve a firm nod and started pulling him towards the steps. "Come on, Steve," Soda said quietly. "You know Tim's just lookin' out for her."

Steve finally let himself be pulled away and towards the step. "She wouldn't have to be looked after if it wasn't for that stupid ass brother of hers." I could hear Steve saying as he walked towards the car.

I didn't even get a chance to wave at Sandy before Tim was pulling me completely into the house and slamming the door closed.

"What did he mean?" I immediately rounded on Tim. He was making his way back to the couch and back to the darkness. I followed him, trying to trip on my way.

"What the hell did he mean? I know you heard him just like I did! What did he mean my stupid brother? What are you hiding?"

Tim still didn't answer and I my anger grew. Was I here because of Neal? Was I living with Tim because Neal had done something stupid? Was there more to sending Neal away than just getting him away from Angela like Tim and Neal had led me to believe? What the hell was going on?

"Answer me!" I stormed forward and shoved Tim in the back before he could sit down. I regretted it as soon as I had done it and scrambled backwards. My anger had gotten the best of me and I was going to pay for it for sure.

Tim only stumbled a foot forward before he caught himself and whirled around to face me. His face was still covered in darkness and I felt like I had the fear of God in me. It happened in seconds. He stormed forward and had me by the throat before I could even try to run.

My feet dangled off the ground as he picked me up and slammed me into the wall a few behind us.

"Don't you fucking dare," he seethed. His eyes glinted in a little moonlight escaping through the curtains and I wished I was dead. Just that one look promised me all the pain in the world for ever thinking about touching him.

"You're on a need to know basis and right now you don't need to know shit," he continued. "You even think about askin' around and I'll tan your hide. You have no idea who you're messing with. I know you're brother let's you run wild and do whatever the fuck you want but I'm not him. You'll do what I say when I say it and no give me any lip doing it or I'll bust you in it."

His grip loosened a little. He had made his point.

When my feet touched the ground and he removed his hand completely, I took a large gulp of air and held my hands to my throat. That was the most intense run in I had ever had with Tim Shepard in my whole life.


End file.
